


Dawning Light: Missing Scenes

by Mhalachai



Series: Dawning Light [2]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Crossover, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mhalachai/pseuds/Mhalachai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scenes/outakes from Dawning Light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glass of Water

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is a a stand-alone scene. Notes on where the scenes go in relation to the main story are indicated.
> 
> ~~
> 
> Summary for chapter 1: Anita's learning what it takes to be part of a family... even if it means getting someone a glass of water at night.
> 
> Takes place between chapters five and six of Dawning Light.

* * *

Anita sighed, cuddling closer to Micah as he traced patterns on her skin. "That was nice," she whispered. 

Micah hummed in her ear, a warm purr that slid down to warm her entire body. "That was more than nice," he whispered back, nipping gently at her earlobe.

"Mmm." Anita closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Micah's shoulder. It had only been a few days since she had brought Dawn home, but in that short time, everything had been turned upside down. Anita and Micah hadn't had any alone time in too long.

Underneath her, Anita felt Micah suddenly tense. He relaxed the next moment, but still, Anita lifted her head and raised an enquiring eyebrow. "I heard footsteps in the hall," Micah said.

Anita frowned. It was an hour after midnight, too early for Nathaniel to be home from work. "What kind of footsteps?"

"Tiny ones."

Dawn. Reluctantly, Anita climbed out of the warm bed and started looking for clothes. Micah watched as she pulled on a t-shirt and some pajama shorts, then went for her robe. 

"If you need any help, call me, okay?" 

Anita turned around, ready to snap that Micah shouldn't talk because he wasn't the one who had to get out of bed. But when she saw the expression on Micah's face, she stopped. He wasn't the one Dawn felt the most comfortable with. "I will," she said finally, smiling at Micah. "Thanks."

Anita stepped out into the darkened hallway and closed the door behind her. At first, she couldn't see anything, but then a tiny object detached itself from the shadows and ran over to Anita. 

"Is something wrong?" Anita asked, going down on one knee. 

Dawn shook her head hard, looking miserable. She didn't move any closer, but she was hugging herself pretty hard. 

Anita let out a breath through her nose. Dawn was so hesitant to let anyone know she needed a hug or any kind of physical comfort. Every time she saw it in action, Anita wanted to hurt those bastards who had done this to Dawn. "Was it a bad dream?"

Dawn shook her head again. "I don't want to sleep," she whispered. 

After what had happened to Dawn the previous night, Anita didn't blame the girl in the slightest. "Then what do you want to do?"

Dawn blinked at Anita. "Aren't... aren't you going to tell me I have to go to bed?"

Anita held out her arms. After a long moment of serious consideration, Dawn inched forward enough to let Anita pick her up. Anita settled the tiny girl on her hip. Dawn couldn't weigh more than thirty pounds. The doctors had said it was a healthy weight for a five-year-old, but she still seemed too fragile to Anita. "The thing about having a bad night, sometimes it helps to be in another place for a while," Anita said, carrying Dawn toward the kitchen. "How about we get you some water?"

Dawn nodded against Anita's shoulder, tightening her grip around Anita's neck. "I like water," she said, muffled. 

In spite of everything, Anita smiled. Dawn could just be so cute sometimes. 

Dawn showed no sign of letting go of Anita's neck, so Anita managed to pour water into a cup for Dawn one-handed. While putting the pitcher back in the fridge, Anita spotted a bag of plastic straws near the coffee maker. In the last few days, such things had been popping up everywhere, as Nathaniel tried to think of other things Dawn might like. Anita was going to have to talk to him about that, but now, she plunked a bright blue straw in Dawn's glass, and carried both glass and girl over to the table. 

Dawn sucked noisily at the water for a while, then pulled the straw out of her mouth with a pop. "Thank you," she said sleepily. 

"You're welcome," Anita said, smoothing Dawn's hair back from her face. "If you haven't been sleeping since we put you to bed, what have you been doing?"

"Writing in my journal," Dawn mumbled, her eyes at half-mast. "Reading."

"Reading?" Anita asked, putting the glass on the table and standing up with Dawn in her arms. "What were you reading? I thought Nathaniel was going to take you to the library tomorrow."

"He is." Dawn yawned widely. "It was a book I got from by the TV."

Anita looked down at the top of Dawn's head, now resting against Anita's shoulder. The only books near the television were Anita's texts and research material for her jobs, both Animator and Federal Marshal. Not books for a child, no matter how mature that child thought herself. 

But that was a discussion for the daytime, when Dawn wasn't asleep on her feet. Anita made a quick detour through the living room and picked up a book by the window, then continued up the stairs to Dawn's room. 

The light was still on, the bed a rumpled mess. Anita laid Dawn down and pulled the covers over her, tucking her in tight. The girl was still fighting to stay awake. "How about a story?" Anita asked, holding up  _Charlotte's Web_. 

Dawn frowned. "Don't you want to go back to bed?" she asked, wrapping tiny fingers around the blanket. 

Anita shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I want to be here." When Dawn didn't protest, Anita sat on the edge of the bed and opened the book. "How about just one chapter?"

Dawn nodded, then wormed her way closer to Anita. Even so close to sleep, she was practically vibrating with energy. "Three chapters," Dawn ordered. "And then tomorrow, I'll read to you."

"You've got yourself a deal." Anita settled back and turned to the first page. "Here we go."

* * *

Five chapters later, Dawn was finally asleep. Carefully, Anita folded down the corner of the page and set the book on the floor next to Dawn's journal. They really needed to make this room a little less bare. It would be bad enough for an adult, but for a child, it was downright depressing.

_Stop it_ , Anita ordered herself.  _We can't keep Dawn. We'll find her family, or else Social Services will find her a permanent foster home. They're not going to let her stay with us._  Anita checked to make sure Dawn was properly tucked in, then stood.  _This isn't any life for a child, anyway._  

She ignored the pain in her chest at that thought, and switched off the lamp. The light was on in the bathroom down the hall, so it wouldn't be dark if Dawn woke in the night. 

Idly wondering how late it was, Anita drifted towards the stairs. Micah was probably sleeping already. At least someone would be awake when Dawn woke the next morning. Even with the three of them, Anita still found it hard to keep up with Dawn. After only three days, Anita's respect for single parents had sky-rocketed. 

As Anita walked down the stairs, the front door deadbolt turned over. Anita froze for a moment, reaching out along the marks until she sensed Nathaniel on the other side of the door. She let out a relieved breath as Nathaniel opened the front door and closed it behind him. "Sorry if I scared you," Nathaniel said in a low voice, dropping his bag by the door.

"Just startled me," Anita said, stepping off the bottom step. She ignored the cold air surrounding Nathaniel and hugged him tight. "How was work?"

Nathaniel pushed Anita away for a moment to undo the buttons on his coat. He wrapped his coat and his arms around her, so warm, smelling so sweet. "Okay." He hugged Anita tight.

Too tight. Anita frowned. "What's wrong?"

Nathaniel buried his face against Anita's hair, breathing shallow. "Is everyone okay?" he asked.

"We're all fine." Anita pushed back and caught Nathaniel's chin, made him look at her. "What is it?"

Nathaniel looked away, eyes downcast. Worry curling in her stomach, Anita helped Nathaniel out of his jacket and waiting until he kicked off his boots before taking him into the living room. Nathaniel had done this once before, and Anita knew from experience that he needed to tell her what was bothering him in his own time. They sat on the couch, and Anita curled protectively around Nathaniel. She didn't press him, only stroked his soft hair. He smelled of soap and vanilla, so he had taken the time to shower after his set at the strip club. Whatever it was, hadn't happened at work.

"Jason wanted to hear all about Dawn," Nathaniel finally said. "Can he come over tomorrow to meet her? He was going to come over anyway and we were going to hang out."

"Sure," Anita murmured. "I think Dawn might like to meet someone else." She paused. "But tell him that if he gets out of line, I'm going to kick his ass into next week."

"I already told him." Nathaniel relaxed against Anita. "And Jean-Claude wants to know if you two still have that date tomorrow. He didn't want to call you and bug you if you were busy?"

"Oh, shit." Anita had forgotten all about the dinner date she'd planned with Jean-Claude. "I can't, Dawn--"

"I can be here, and so can Micah," Nathaniel interrupted softly. "You can go on your date and it'll be okay."

Anita didn't say anything for a minute. "I'll call him tomorrow," she finally said. "You'd really be okay here with Dawn?"

"Yes," Nathaniel replied. "We'll be fine."

"Okay." Anita went back to stroking Nathaniel's hair. "Thanks for telling me."

"You're welcome. Can we get a camera?"

"Huh?"

Nathaniel twisted in Anita's arms so she could see his face. "A digital camera. To take pictures of the pard and stuff."

"If you want." Anita ran her hand over Nathaniel's cheek. "What brought this on?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "There was..." His voice broke, and he closed his eyes. "There aren't any pictures of Nicky."

His brother. Anita's stomach clenched, and it took her a moment to realize that the sensation wasn't hers, but from Nathaniel, coming through the marks.

"Dawn should have pictures of being a kid."

_This isn't about pictures,_  Anita wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

"It's just..." Nathaniel opened his eyes and turned his face away, inscrutable. "Dawn's so tiny and trusting, even after all that happened to her."

"She's resilient," Anita said.

"Yeah." Nathaniel swallowed hard. "You know when you're a kid, and stuff happens, you think that everyone around you is thinking the same way? Like you're all the same age but just different heights?"

"It is the only frame of reference we have," Anita said slowly. She had no idea where this was going. 

"When I-- With Nicky, he was little, but if he died--" Nathaniel stopped suddenly. His breathing and heart rate had sped up, a fear response. Anita held him tight, wishing she could stop this, but there was nothing to do to keep him safe from his past. "The man who killed him, who did all that to me... hell, all the men, it didn't make any sense, but I could understand, if we were all the same age but just different heights."

"Nathaniel, that's not the way it works," Anita protested. "You were a child and they weren't, they--"

"I know that!" Nathaniel interrupted. "I know it was stupid and pathetic, but it was all I had, to understand!"

"I'm sorry," Anita said, a lump forming in her throat. Justifications from her at this point wouldn't help Nathaniel in the slightest. He didn't need moralization. He needed comfort.

"But, like, now I see Dawn, and she's the same age as Nicky when it started." Nathaniel dropped his head to the couch, his voice growing faint. "And she's so little and fragile and she needs us to protect her, and to get stuff from high shelves, and to make sure she doesn't use knives. How could anyone want to hurt a little kid like that?"

_Like they did to you._  Anita closed her eyes, wishing she could have spared him that pain, wishing there was something she could do to hurt the men who had taken away Nathaniel's innocence. "I don't know."

Nathaniel curled over Anita's arm. "I don't understand anymore, what they did to me and Nicky," he whispered. "I don't understand how they could do that."

Anita held Nathaniel tight. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say to him. 

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't change his past.


	2. Strange Little Girl, Look At You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel is starting to put the pieces together on the things Dawn fears...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just after Dawning Light chapter 10.

* * *

Nathaniel answered the front door before Jason had even finished knocking. "Hey," Jason said by way of greeting, pushing his way into the house. "I got all the stuff you asked for."

"Thanks," Nathaniel said softly, casting a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the living room.

"Thanks?" Jason echoed. "I spent all afternoon running around town picking up Christmas decorations and assorted crap, putting my life on the line every time I stepped between a suburban soccer mom and yet another Santa decoration, and all I get is a thanks?"

"Thanks a lot." Nathaniel took the plastic bin from Jason's hands and examined the contents.

Jason shrugged. "Okay then. Why couldn't you go get this yourself? You sounded weird on the phone."

Nathaniel frowned at the large wrapped gift in the bottom of the bin. Jean-Claude's elegant handwriting had addressed the gift to Dawn. "I was going to go shopping with Dawn, but there was a change in plans."

Jason poked Nathaniel in the shoulder. "What change? Something to do with Anita?"

Nathaniel shook his head. "Dawn had a bad morning."

"What, she get in a fight with Anita? She's feisty for a rug-rat."

"No, not that." Nathaniel slumped against the wall, wondering if all parents felt this utterly helpless when their kid was falling apart. "Anita took Dawn to the doctor's office, to get her checked out and all that. Dawn was fine through most of it, even though Anita said she questioned everything, and knew why they were taking a full-body x-ray."

"Why did they do something like that?" Jason interrupted.

"Looking for any indication of past abuse like broken bones." Nathaniel watched as realization dawned in Jason's eyes. The werewolf looked down at the basket of Christmas decorations. "Anita said Dawn was talking with the doctor and nurses just fine, until they went to take some blood."

"Maybe the kid doesn't like needles?"

Nathaniel shook his head. "Anita said Dawn totally freaked out. She went really quiet, then before the nurse could stick the needle in her arm she got away from Anita and ran. She made it as far as the elevator before Anita caught her. She said a few words about the world ending if they took blood out of her, and then she just stopped talking."

"Jesus," Jason muttered. "Where's the kid now?"

"In the living room. Anita went into the police station to see if they came up with anything on Dawn. She's really mad right now."

"At what?"

Nathaniel looked at Jason, who had grown up in a nice rich house with two parents, where the worst thing that ever happened to him was that he might not have gotten the BMW he wanted for his sixteenth birthday. Jason might know intellectually what could have happened to Dawn, but he hadn't lived it, not like Nathaniel had. "Come in, Dawn will want to see you," he said.

Nathaniel didn't wait for Jason. He walked into the living room with the basket of Christmas goods, and set it on the ground by the Christmas tree. Behind him, he heard Jason whistle. "Man, this place looks awesome. Do you have Martha Stewart locked up in the basement?"

"No, we did this," Nathaniel said. "Dawn helped out."

The girl in question hadn't moved from her spot on the window seat. She hadn't eaten anything since Anita brought her in from the car that morning. All Dawn had done once her boots and jacket were off was to head straight for the living room, climb up on the cushioned window seat, and stare out at the snow.

"This place looks really awesome," Jason said again. He slumped down on the sofa where he could keep an eye on Nathaniel and on Dawn. "Compared with the Circus, this is Christmas central. Most of the vampires don't celebrate Christmas, it'd take away from their eternal gothic emo street cred."

Dawn turned her head a little toward Jason.

"And that tree is amazing," Jason continued. "I saw Micah yesterday, he said that you guys picked it up on Thursday? You sure do work quick. I guess you'd have to, with Christmas less than a couple of weeks away. Did you get the decorations too, or did you make them?"

"We bought most of them, but Anita had some stashed away from previous years, and Dawn and I made the rest," Nathaniel said, jumping in to fill the silence.

"Very cool," Jason said. "And lots of presents, too. Are those all for Dawn?"

"Most of them are," Nathaniel told him. The majority of the presents under the tree were things that Nathaniel had purchased for Dawn in that first week, before the social worker tried to ship Dawn off to the Walkers. Anita still hadn't asked him why he'd bought all those things, and he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her of all the Christmases when he had nothing; when he'd had to get into some strange man's car and sell his body just to get enough money to eat.

Nathaniel kept those thoughts buried deep, far under the mental shielding he'd learned from Anita. Dawn had enough trouble with reading minds. She didn't need to glimpse the horror show that was Nathaniel's past.

"Well, I've got one more to add to the pile, if she wants." Jason dug into the basket and pulled the long gift-wrapped package out from under eight tiny reindeer. "It's from Jean-Claude."

Dawn turned around. She stared at Jason for a long minute, went back to looking at the snow.

"I'll put it under the tree," Nathaniel said. He wasn't going to play mind games with Dawn. If there was a gift offered, he wasn't going to make her jump through hops to get it. Taking the gift from Jason, Nathaniel set it on the pile of presents.

Moving stiffly, Dawn slipped down from the window seat and shuffled over to the gift pile. She knelt in front of Jean-Claude's present and started sniffing the wrapping paper.

"What is she doing?" Jason asked Nathaniel.

Nathaniel shook his head. "Dawn? What are you doing?"

With one final sniff, Dawn sat up. "It's a present from a vampire. It might have something dead in it."

"What?" Jason exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.

Nathaniel stared into Dawn's clear hazel eyes, and worry that had nothing to do with his own childhood began to gnaw at his insides. "Why do you think there's something dead in that package?"

"Because Jean-Claude is a vampire," Dawn said as if it was obvious, like saying the sun rose in the east. "Once Angelus left Giles a present like that and he's a vampire."

Nathaniel had heard about Giles before, and from what he gathered the man was around forty, British, and was around Dawn more than her father had been. That meant that Angelus was probably the vampire. "What did Angelus leave for Giles?" Nathaniel asked.

"His dead girlfriend," Dawn said, as matter-of-factly as if she'd said that Angelus had left Giles a postcard.

From the couch, Jason made a weird sound, a cross between a gasp and a cough. Nathaniel fought to keep his emotions off his face. "Dawn, Jean-Claude would never do something like that, not to you, not to anyone," Nathaniel said. "He's a... I mean, he wouldn't. He likes children."

"To eat?"

Jason muttered something under his breath. "Dawn, you met Jean-Claude. He's a good guy."

"He's still a vampire," Dawn pointed out.

"Yeah, but--" Jason cut himself off. "Okay, kid, there's only one way I can do this."

"Do what?" Nathaniel asked, instantly alert.

"Dawn, I've known a few vampires in my time," Jason said. Nathaniel gave him a warning glare, but Jason shook his head. "Some of them weren't nice, some were probably like this Angelus guy, leaving rotting bodies in beds--"

"Murdered bodies," Dawn interrupted. "Angelus killed her at the high school and then took her body to Giles' apartment. I heard Buffy talking to Willow about it."

Half of Nathaniel wanted to hug Dawn and protect her from the story she was telling, the other half wanted to go out and hurt whoever had let her know about these horrible things in the world. He settled for reaching out and covering Dawn's hand with his. She was cold to the touch.

"Jean-Claude's not like that," Jason continued as Nathaniel reached for a blanket. "Jean-Claude's the best master a guy could hope for. He's a good vampire, and he certainly doesn't eat children. Do you think Anita would be dating Jean-Claude if Jean-Claude wasn't a good guy?"

Dawn frowned, letting Nathaniel tuck the blanket around her. "I guess not."

"Exactly," Jason said.

"But then why would Jean-Claude give me a present?" Dawn asked.

"He gave you that pen," Nathaniel reminded her. "He knows you're going to be staying here with Anita, he probably wanted to give you a nice gift because of that."

Dawn played with the edge of the blanket, not looking at anyone. "Can you find out?" she asked in a tiny voice. "If it's bad?"

"I'll have Anita ask Jean-Claude what it is," Nathaniel promised before Jason could speak. "He'll tell her the truth."

"Okay." Dawn continued playing with the blanket, lapsing into silence.

Nathaniel wished desperately that Anita or Micah were there. He didn't know how to handle Dawn when she was freaking out, or when she was really quiet. Anita knew better, Micah too. Nathaniel always felt like he was doing something wrong. He had read all the books and the websites he could on children, on what scared them and how they dealt with trauma and loss.

But the way Dawn acted wasn't like anything in the books. Nothing about her was normal, not the way she talked, now how much she knew, how she could read so well, not even the way she ate. Certainly not the way she freaked out around certain people... although there was a pattern that Nathaniel was beginning to suspect. Dawn had met many people since coming to live at Anita's house, but only a few of them had scared her. Merle, Richard, Damian... all tall alpha males with muscular builds.

Dawn pulled Nathaniel out of his thoughts by leaning against him. Nathaniel put his hand on Dawn's shoulder, careful as always to see if she flinched away from him, but she only cuddled up closer.

"Do you have Christmas at the Circus?" Dawn asked Jason.

"I do," Jason responded. "I've got a tiny tree in my room, on top of my television. And I hung some mistletoe in the main room, but took it down after Meng Die threatened to feed it to me."

"Anya once said that mistletoe is the cause of and the solution to all a girl's problems," Dawn said. "No one would explain what that meant. Does that mean you're supposed to poison someone?"

"I don't think that's what it means," Nathaniel said gently.

"Oh." Dawn stared at Jason. "Do you watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special?"

Jason frowned. "Who's Charlie Brown?"

Dawn sat up, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. "You don't know who Charlie Brown is?" she demanded, incredulous. "No Snoopy? No Lucy? None of it?"

Jason shook his head. "Sorry, kid."

"A world without Charlie Brown is no kind of a world at all!" Dawn exclaimed. "So you never saw the Snoopy dance?"

"Again with the no."

Dawn smacked her hands against her forehead. "What kind of place is this?" she asked melodramatically. "The Snoopy dance solves everyone's problems! Xander used to do it all the time for Willow! I know, I saw it one year when they were at our house for Christmas."

"Is Snoopy a person?"

Dawn stood up and actually stamped her foot on the ground. "Snoopy is a dog! He's Charlie Brown's dog, and he dances on top of the piano while Schroeder plays at the Christmas pageant rehearsal, and no one understands why Charlie Brown is full of ennui at the over-commercialization of Christmas!" Dawn paused. "You guys  _do_  have Jesus here, right?"

"Yes, we have Jesus," Jason promised. He cracked a grin. "Well, not on me, I left him in my other pants."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I'll show you the Snoopy dance," she said, stepping away from the blanket. "So if you ever need to cheer anyone up, you can."

With that, Dawn started jumping around, her arms straight at her sides. To Nathaniel, the Snoopy dance looked like a weird cross between Irish dancing and pogo-jumping.

She finished with a flourish. "That's it!" She pointed at a laughing Jason. "Now it's your turn, buster."

Jason stopped laughing. "I don't--"

"You dance all night at work," Dawn said. She leaned against Nathaniel, putting her arm around his neck. "Please?" She gave him big puppy-dog eyes. "It'll make me feel better."

"Of course Jason will dance for you," Nathaniel said. "He would never disappoint a little girl."

Glaring daggers at Nathaniel, Jason stood and hopped around half-heartedly. "Like this?"

Dawn heaved a mighty sigh. "No, more kick!" She pushed away from Nathaniel and showed Jason the dance again, and again, until he was actually mimicking her movements with enough energy for Dawn's satisfaction.

It took all Nathaniel had to hold his laughter inside. He made a mental note to talk to Anita about buying a video camera for Christmas.

Giggling, hair flying everywhere, Dawn collapsed on the ground by Nathaniel's side. "I feel better now, Jason!" she said.

"Oh good." Jason pushed his hair off his face. "I need a drink."

"There's water in the fridge," Nathaniel said. Jason headed for the kitchen, leaving Dawn and Nathaniel alone in the living room. Dawn giggled again, then lapsed into silence. Nathaniel decided to take a chance. "Do you want to talk about why you were upset this morning?"

Dawn looked at her hands, then slowly pushed back her sleeves. The scars on her wrists stood out bright red against her pale skin. "What if Buffy's looking for me and I'm not doing anything to find her?" Dawn whispered. "What if she can't find me because I'm not looking for her?"

Nathaniel took a deep breath. "Is there anything else about Buffy that you haven't told Anita or the police?" he asked. He caught the way Dawn flinched at the question.

"I told them about where I live and all about my family," Dawn protested. "And I don't know how I ended up in the cemetery, really!"

Nathaniel shushed the girl. "It'll be okay," he said. He knew Dawn was lying about something, holding back some piece of information that was making her feel guilty. But no matter how bad she felt, no matter how often Anita asked the girl for more, Dawn wouldn't explain.

Nathaniel had seen the way Dawn had trouble sleeping, how she knew too much for a girl her age about vampires and lycanthropes and the monsters hiding in the dark. Micah had told them how Dawn asked if Micah would eat her, and after Dawn's reaction to Damian and Merle and Richard...

If Dawn didn't want to give them all the information to find her sister, that was just fine with Nathaniel. Anyone who let a child so close to the dangerous things in the night, had let her be sliced up as a sacrifice on a freezing winter night, had no business being anywhere near Dawn. Dawn deserved better. She deserved to be safe.

Nathaniel hadn't talked about it with Anita or Micah, but he knew they felt the same way.

Even if Dawn's sister did show up, Nathaniel wasn't going to let Dawn go without a fight.


	3. The Shopping Day Before The Night Before Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the last shopping day before Christmas Eve, and the malls of St. Louis are packed with last-minute shoppers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was initially part of chapter 11 of Dawning Light, but it was rather self-contained and it also didn't move the story along, so it's now a "missing scene".

* * *

 

"We don't have to do this," Nathaniel said, unbuttoning Dawn's jacket.

Dawn swallowed the growing anxiety in her chest. "Yes, we do! It's Christmas in a few days and Anita and Micah are at work and this is the last chance to go shopping and I don't have any gifts for  _anyone_!"

Nathaniel glanced around the packed mall. "You don't need to get us presents, Dawn."

"I totally do!" Dawn tugged on Nathaniel's sleeve until he knelt down. "Please?"

Nathaniel sighed. "I didn't know the mall would be this crowded."

"So?"

"Dawn, sometimes you don't like crowded places," Nathaniel reminded her. 

Dawn waved that off. "This is totally different, we have shopping to do!"

Smiling faintly, Nathaniel helped Dawn out of her coat. "If you do want to leave, you just tell me, okay?"

"I will." Dawn tried to turn and head into the fray, but Nathaniel caught her wrist. "What?"

"You can't run off." Dawn caught a thin spike of fear coming from Nathaniel, and she didn't understand. "You have to stay with me, I can't lose you."

"You won't lose me, I promise! I'll stay with you."

Nathaniel didn't move. "If we do get separated, do you know what to do?"

Dawn was struck with a weird sense of deja vu, from when she was eleven and the first time Buffy took her to a mall without Mom.  _"Go sit on that bench and don't bug me!"_

 _"But what if I can't find you?"_ Dawn pleaded, scared that her sister would leave her behind.

_"Like I could be so lucky to lose you!"_

Dawn looked at her shoes. "I won't get lost," she whispered, all the excitement at the trip chased out of her head by memories of home.

"Dawn, that's not what I meant." Nathaniel hesitated for a moment, then picked Dawn up and stood. "I didn't think that you'd try to get in trouble."

Dawn rested her head against Nathaniel's shoulder. She wasn't sure she wanted a whole mall full of people looking at her being a big baby... but she also wasn't sure she cared. "I won't get lost, I promise."

Nathaniel touched Dawn's cheek. "Maybe I can carry you for a little while?" he suggested.

Digging her fingers into the fabric of Nathaniel's shirt, Dawn watched the mass of humanity flow past them. The fear Dawn felt from Nathaniel shifted into apprehension and worry and something deeper, darker. Something like a memory Dawn wasn't sure she wanted to see. 

The more Dawn glimpsed of Nathaniel's past, the less she understood. 

Taking her silence for agreement, Nathaniel stepped into the flow of people. From her vantage point on his shoulder, Dawn could see the shops and the faces of the people around them, and it was almost like being the real her again, not some midget-sized kid. 

After a while, Dawn started taking in more of her surroundings. The mall was huge, bigger than anything in Sunnydale. Tinny Christmas carols and shrill voices echoed off the hard surfaces of tile and glass. But what made everything seem so alien to Dawn was the undercurrent of emotion, the  _want_  that filled the air. 

But it wasn't a good sort of desire, like the feeling Dawn had when Anita tucked her into bed or when Micah let her pick what they were having for dinner. It felt hard and sharp and desperate. Something about it was too familiar, too close, and Dawn closed her eyes on that memory. 

"What's wrong?" Nathaniel asked immediately. 

Dawn shook her head. "What's Christmas supposed to mean here?" she asked, voice muffled against Nathaniel's shoulder.

Nathaniel carefully shifted Dawn higher on his hip. "Do you mean Christmas in general?"

"Not really." Dawn blinked hard, watching the bright colors pass them by, then twisted to look at Nathaniel. "What does it mean to you?"

"To me?" Nathaniel paused, frowning. Dawn wondered what he was thinking about. Or who he was thinking about. "It's like... it's about having people who care about you."

"Like Anita?"

Something in Nathaniel's face softened, as it always did when he spoke about Anita. "Yes, like Anita. And Micah, and Jason, and the Pard." He smiled hesitantly. "And you, too."

A warm feeling settled over Dawn, blocking out the sharp edges in her mind, and even if they weren't entirely her own emotions, she let them keep her safe. "When I was a little kid, I always thought it was about presents. But family's better than presents, though, any day." Dawn sat up on Nathaniel's arm and shook her head. Even though she was fifteen and looked five, she felt ninety. "I think I can walk now."

Carefully, Nathaniel set Dawn on the ground. Everything looked so different from down here, Dawn thought. She absently gripped Nathaniel's hand as they set off deeper into the mall.

After a few minutes of walking past shops full of boring clothing and electronics, Dawn's steps slowed. "Can we go in there?" she asked, pointing at a window filled with stuffed animals. 

"Of course," Nathaniel replied, navigating them against the flow of people into the store. 

Once inside, Dawn bounced up and down on her toes. There was every kind of stuffed animal in here! They had giraffes, and cats, teddy bears of every size, and even lions and tigers! 

"Oh my," Dawn said, and broke into giggles at her own Wizard of Oz joke. Nathaniel looked at her quizzically. "Can we look around?"

"Of course."

Dawn let go of Nathaniel's hand and scampered deeper into the store. She'd always loved stuffed animals. The toys in the store were so soft, so pretty. Checking that Nathaniel was right behind her, Dawn looked at the shelves of teddy bears and zoo animals, pausing when she came to the wall of stuffed penguins. "Why are there so many kinds of penguins?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at Nathaniel.

"I don't know," he said. 

A hint of movement behind Nathaniel caught Dawn's attention. One of the female sales clerks hovered by the stand of stuffed elephants; the woman's entire attention on Nathaniel. Dawn rolled her eyes. Grown-ups were so weird. "Have you seen the movie?" the lady asked when Nathaniel turned her way. "The Penguin Brigade?"

Nathaniel shook his head, an easy smile on his face as he laid his hand on Dawn's shoulder. "Is it new?" 

The woman actually giggled. "It just came out last week."

Growing more annoyed by the minute at the silly woman, Dawn sidled closer to Nathaniel and craned her head up to look at him. "Can we go see it sometime?" she asked, trying to sound as cute as possible.

Nathaniel looked down, and this time his smile seemed genuine. "Of course." 

Dawn instantly felt better. She was being silly herself. Shaking her head, she headed down the aisle, away from the stuffed penguins. 

"You don't want to get a penguin?" Nathaniel asked, following her. "Anita likes them."

"I know," Dawn said. "But she already has some, and that'd be like a total copy-cat to get her something I know she likes, right?" Dawn stopped by the display of tropical bird toys. "We can get one of these!" Dawn exclaimed, pointing at a bright blue parrot that had been knocked onto its side on the shelf. She poked at it. "See? It's pining for the fjords!" Nathaniel gave her a blank look. "Never mind."

"Do you like any of these toys?" Nathaniel asked, and Dawn wasn't sure if she imagined the hopeful tone in his voice. "Stuffed animals are fun."

"Uh huh," Dawn murmured as she made a tiny toy tiger bounce up and down like Tigger. "I used to have like, a million of them, before we moved to Sunnydale. Even Buffy had Mr. Gordo." She moved down the aisle, Nathaniel as quiet and hovering as a ghost. "He was a stuffed pig. Buffy said I used to chew his ears when I was teething. She kept telling Mom on me, but I was pre-verbal so Mom told Buffy she had to share."

"Did she?" Nathaniel helped Dawn pull a plush lion off the shelf. 

"Yup." Dawn twitched the toy's tail. It was almost what she wanted, but not quite. She put the lion back and continued on. "She usually did what Mom told her-- Oh!"

Dawn bolted across the store floor, barely missing a collision with the store clerk's legs. There it was! Exactly what she wanted! She picked the toy up with eager hands. It was a stuffed kitten, small enough to fit in her hands. Its soft fur was a light golden brown, almost the same color as Dawn's hair, and it had hazel green eyes!

"Can I get this?" Dawn asked Nathaniel. She tucked the toy against her chest and grabbed at Nathaniel's pant leg with her free hand. "For Micah, for Christmas? Please? Pretty please? With sugar and a cherry on top?"

"You want to get Micah a toy for Christmas?" Nathaniel couldn't mask the confused tinge in his voice. 

"Totally!" Dawn held up the stuffed cat for Nathaniel's inspection. "'Cause it's sort of like me, and it's a cat, so he won't forget about me when he has to work a long day or if I have to go away."

Nathaniel looked at Dawn for a very long moment. "Dawn, Micah isn't ever going to forget you," Nathaniel said. "Neither are me or Anita."

Dawn leaned against Nathaniel's leg, looking at the toy cat in her arms. "But he still might like a reminder of me, right?"

Nathaniel took a deep breath. "Of course he would. Why don't we go see if they can wrap it for us?"

"Thank you so much!" Dawn managed to both jump up and down at the same time as she hugged Nathaniel around the waist. "This is going to be a really good Christmas!"

"It sure is," Nathaniel agreed, smiling down at Dawn.

* * *

 

"But Anita said she kept getting in trouble at work because she takes in coffee cups that her boss hates," Dawn argued as she and Nathaniel exited the movie memorabilia shop. "She won't get in trouble with this cup, even though she should."

"Anita has never liked wine, so I don't think that the cup fits her," Nathaniel said, shifting the shopping bags to one hand so he could take hold of Dawn's little palm.

"But haven't you seen the Dracula movie?" Dawn demanded. "They have it here, I saw it, and this fits  _sooo_  perfect!"

Nathaniel stopped dead. "When did you see the Dracula movie?" 

Dawn tried to look innocent. "It was on television a few days ago," she said vaguely. "I only saw a little bit."

"You shouldn't be watching those kinds of movies, Dawn, you'll get scared," Nathaniel told her, guiding Dawn back into the mall. "Children shouldn't watch scary movies."

"The only thing scary about Dracula is his choice in tailors," Dawn said scathingly. "Spike was a whole lot scarier than Dracula." And Angel was cuter, Dawn added mentally. She'd only seen the real Dracula in passing that night he'd had coffee with Mom, but she'd thought at the time that the man really needed a haircut. "So Anita will like the cup and her boss will hate it but he won't be able to say anything so everyone wins!"

Nathaniel shook his head. "You really are a lot like Anita," he said.

Dawn beamed. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome." Nathaniel nodded toward another wing of the mall. "Are you hungry?"

"Mall food?" Dawn asked, perking up. "I love mall food!"

So, apparently, did everyone else shopping on that second-to-last shopping day before Christmas. The food court was packed with loud, frantic shoppers. Mostly haggard-looking mothers with chubby, grabby children demanding food or toys or video games. Dawn edged a little closer to Nathaniel as she watched one boy, maybe her apparent age, shovel a hamburger into his gaping maw.

Repulsed, Dawn fervently hoped that she had never been so ill-mannered while out in public. Probably not, she decided. Buffy would have pointed out any gross behavior in Dawn. She'd certainly done so every other time Dawn had been "embarrassing" while Buffy was around. 

"What do you want to eat?" Nathaniel asked. 

Dawn made a face. "Celery? And water?"

"You need more to eat than that," Nathaniel said. Dawn figured that he either hadn't seen what she had, or he'd totally lost his sense of humor in the Dracula store. 

"Fine," Dawn exclaimed. "What should I eat?"

Nathaniel looked around the cavernous food court. "How about Mexican?" he suggested.

"Ooh, tacos?" Dawn asked, celery forgotten. "Can I have a taco? With the hard shell that goes crunch when you bite into it?"

"Okay." Nathaniel navigated their way towards the food stall in question. "And maybe we can get them to put some celery in it."

Dawn peered suspiciously at Nathaniel, but his face was blank. "Hrmph," was all Dawn said. 

* * *

 

"Are we done?" Nathaniel asked as they headed down yet another generic mall corridor. Dawn hoped that she never got lost in a place like this; she'd never find her way out. It would be the perfect kind of mall to trap zombies in, too. "Dawn?"

"Huh?" Dawn blinked. "I guess."

Nathaniel smiled. "It's been a long day, hasn't it?"

Dawn nodded and swung her hand in Nathaniel's. "Kinda. How long have we been here?"

"About two hours."

"Only two hours?" Dawn demanded. "I used to be able to be in a mall all afternoon! Man, I must be getting old." 

Her further rant on the matter was derailed as a flash of silver down the corridor caught her eye. Curious, she headed in that direction, pulling Nathaniel along with her. 

The flashing had been from one of the many carts set up along the center of the mall wing. Light reflected off shiny jewelry, with sparkling stones set in hair clips and necklaces and jewelry boxes, shaped like cute animals and flowers and hearts. Dawn knew that most of the stuff on the cart was junk, but it was so shiny and pretty that she didn't care. 

Nathaniel waited patiently while Dawn looked and looked, never touching because that was rude, but her eyes took in everything, including something almost hidden behind a ladybug box. 

The woman in charge of the cart came over to them. "Can I help you find something?" she said. Dawn knew in that instant that the woman was tired and her feet hurt, but she'd sold a lot of jewelry that day so she was happy that she would be able to buy a real turkey for her kids' Christmas dinner. That happiness rushed over Dawn and made her turn against Nathaniel's leg, hiding her face. 

"She's shy sometimes," Nathaniel explained, his hand covering Dawn's back. 

"That's all right," the woman said. "She's a beautiful girl."

Dawn peeked up at the woman. "I was just looking," she whispered. 

"Look all you want," the woman said. "Is there something special you were looking at?"

Dawn stepped hesitantly away from Nathaniel. "Maybe."

"What is it, Dawn?" Nathaniel asked. "Is there something you want?"

Dawn pointed at the cart. "Behind the ladybug." She waited as the woman lifted out the pendant. "That."

"May I?" Nathaniel asked, taking the pendant, shaped like an old-fashioned locket, from the woman. "It's very nice. Do you want it?"

Nervousness gripping her stomach, Dawn nodded, staring at Nathaniel. "Can... can I get it for Buffy?"

"For your sister?" Nathaniel's voice was blank, but suddenly Dawn felt like a child and a fool, wanting to buy a Christmas present for a sister she may never see again. 

"Never mind, put it back," Dawn said in a rush, pushing Nathaniel toward the saleswoman. Her face was burning up and she wanted to throw up and cry at the same time.

Nathaniel laid his hand on Dawn's shoulder, squeezing gently. "We'll take it," he told the saleswoman. "And a shorter chain."

Dawn couldn't look away as Nathaniel handed over a large fold of bills, and received the locket in a velvet box. He put the box into one of the shopping bags, then picked up Dawn and settled her on his hip. 

"Merry Christmas," the saleswoman called after them. 

Nathaniel returned the salutation, but Dawn couldn't speak. She gripped Nathaniel's shirt tightly, still feeling as if she was going to cry. Nathaniel carried Dawn as far as the mall entrance, when he set her down to help her into her jacket. 

"Why did you do that?" Dawn asked. She knew that Anita and Nathaniel and everyone didn't think they would ever find Buffy. Even Dawn didn't think Buffy would ever find her again.

Nathaniel buttoned up Dawn's jacket and straightened her collar. "I buy Nicky a Christmas present every year," he said quietly. "Come on, let's get home and wrap these presents."

Dawn's eyes were wide. She wanted to tell Nathaniel that she was sorry his brother had died, and that she knew how he felt, and that she appreciated what he'd done more than he would ever know.

But in the end, all Dawn could do was let Nathaniel take her hand and guide her carefully out the mall doors into the freezing, swirling snow.


	4. Check Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean-Claude is beginning to realize that with Dawn, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This missing scene takes place early January, one month after the start of Dawning Light.

* * *

 

Anita wanted something. Jean-Claude could tell, from the way she kept tapping her toe against the carpet, refusing to meet his gaze, holding onto Dawn's hand like it was a lifeline.

Dawn, on the other hand, was still as a doll, glaring up at Jean-Claude.

Jean-Claude hid a sigh. "Oui, ma petite?"

Anita flipped her hair over her shoulder, a nervous gesture he had not seen in a long time. "Are you busy?" she asked, pulling Dawn closer and putting her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Not at the moment, ma petite. Why?" If it had been any other time, he would have approached Anita, touched her as he asked after her secrets, hidden loosely in the rush of her words. But not tonight. Not as Anita held Dawn between them as a shield.

"Zerbrowski called," Anita said in a hurry. "And Micah's at work and Nathaniel's working and Dawn and I were going to see a movie but I can't take her with me to the police station--"

Jean-Claude held up his hand to stop the guilty torrent of words. Now, he knew why Anita was here. "Would you like for us to watch Dawn?" Never mind that the detectives at RPIT would have made space for the girl, rather than have her holed up in the monster's lair.

He made himself blink. The dreariness of the January cold was affecting him more than usual, making him poetic in his maudlin state.

"Yes!" Anita almost smiled. "I know it's short notice, but I can come pick her up when... Wait, who do you mean by 'us'?"

Jean-Claude raised an eyebrow as little Dawn rolled her eyes at Anita's delayed reaction. How very... adult. "He means he's going to feed me to the lamia in the side-show upstairs when you're gone, Anita," Dawn said.

"Hey!" Anita shot Jean-Claude a glare. "That-- Oh, hey. Hey!"

Dawn shook her head. "She left her sense of humor in the car."

"Shh." Anita knelt down in front of Dawn, straightening the girl's dress. "I know you're upset about the movie..."

"Whatever," Dawn mumbled. She played with a button on Anita's jacket. "You have to work."

"I'm still sorry." Anita brushed a strand of hair off Dawn's cheek. Dawn didn't see it, but Jean-Claude did, the tenderness, the softness on Anita's face. It was a look that Jean-Claude never thought he'd see, and something twisted in his chest in the vicinity of his unbeating heart.

"It's okay," Dawn said.

Anita dropped a kiss on Dawn's hair and gave her a quick hug. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't wander off. And don't look vampires in the eye. And--"

"Aniiiiita!" Dawn interrupted. "You're leaving me with Jean-Claude. What can go wrong?" She smiled brilliantly. 

"I'm not even going to answer that," Anita muttered as she stood up. She hesitated, being pulled toward the door by duty, and not wanting to leave.

 _"No harm will come to little Dawn while she is in my care,"_  Jean-Claude whispered in Anita's mind, over the marks between them. 

_"I know that."_

_"I am honored that you would ask me to watch over her, even for so short a time,"_  Jean-Claude added. He waited for Anita to deflect his comments, as she so often did. It was rare that she could let him speak of his true feelings for her, beyond love, without the self-deprecating comments that were her only way of handling things. 

But Anita said nothing. She gave Dawn's shoulder another squeeze, then backed towards the door. "I'll give you guys a call in a bit, okay?" 

"Bye," Dawn said. "Don't get eaten by vampires."

"I'll try my best," Anita said, smiling a little. She glanced at Jean-Claude, with the happiness still in her eyes, and her smile changed. "Goodbye."

He bowed slightly at the waist, ever the gentleman. "Ma petite, we will await your return."

He waited until Anita had closed the heavy door of the lair underneath the Circus before turning to Dawn. The girl was looking around the room, with its fabric-covered walls and stark white and black furniture, with frank curiosity. Jean-Claude knew she had never been to the Circus of the Damned before. 

What had he gotten himself into? He had only met Dawn twice, and had no opportunity to speak in depth with her. He knew nothing about children. The closest he had come to a child in a very long time was Valentina, who looked the same age as Dawn, but acted as only a centuries-old predator could. Perfect camouflage, until it was too late.

He did not know why watching Dawn made him think of camouflage.

"It looks like a mime exploded in here," Dawn said suddenly. "Well, not a real mime, because then everything would be red and gooey, but like a fake mime. Mime-lite."

Jean-Claude blinked again. He may not know much about children, but he doubted this was the usual behavior for a child. "Indeed, little one, the room is very black and white."

"Who picked it out?" Dawn asked, taking a tentative step towards the coffee table. "Are those roses real?"

"The flowers are real, oui," Jean-Claude said. He moved around the couch, leaving a great deal of room between him and the child. Anita had shared her suspicions on what had happened to Dawn before the graveyard, how the girl continued to panic around unfamiliar men, how the child had taken the step of stealing a knife from the kitchen for protection the previous month. 

More than Anita, Jean-Claude knew what monsters, human or otherwise, could do to such an innocent child. He hoped, for the child's sake and for Anita, that Anita's fears were unfounded. 

As Dawn carefully touched the white roses, Jean-Claude made a note to speak with Nathaniel about the girl. Nathaniel had a hard-earned knowledge of the depravity of men, and he might have a better idea of what had befallen Dawn. 

"These are pretty," Dawn said, smiling with a brilliance that befit her name. "You get Anita flowers all the time, right? The ones we have at home?"

"Oui, those are my gift to Anita," Jean-Claude said. Moving carefully, deliberately human, he sat on the long white couch and regarded Dawn. "A dozen white roses and three red roses."

"I asked Anita about that," Dawn said. "'Cause, you know, fifteen's a weird number for roses, unless there's some weird multiples-of-three thing you've got going on, which I'm not sure I want to know about." She scrunched up her nose for a moment. "Who's Asher?"

Unsure of how to deal with the torrent of information that had just spilled from Dawn's lips, Jean-Claude picked the easiest way out -- answering a question with a question. "Where did you hear of Asher?"

"I heard Anita thinking about-- I mean talking about!" Dawn jumped back, eyes wide. "I heard Anita talking about him!"

Ah, yes. The elephant in the room. Anita had told him that Dawn could apparently read thoughts, but then quickly changed the subject. He had not pressed Anita, had not wanted to deal with her sudden maternal protectiveness. 

But now, without Anita around... Jean-Claude might not have known how to deal with children, but he knew how to charm almost anyone. He smiled, careful to hide his fangs. "Anita has told me that you occasionally hear the thoughts of others," Jean-Claude said softly. "It is quite all right, to speak of such things."

Dawn looked down at her dress, smoothed the purple fabric with trembling hands. 

Jean-Claude leaned forward, added a touch of empathy and a dash of comfort to his voice. "You are not the only one with gifts, mon petit soleil. Anita has gifts of her own."

"Yeah, but that's cool," Dawn said. "She can raise the dead, she doesn't have stupid mind-reading telepathy."

Jean-Claude hoped that Anita would forgive him for what he was about to do. "I am certain that if you speak with Anita on this matter, you will find that she does not consider her affinity with the dead to be 'cool'. As with other gifts, it has another side."

Dawn frowned. "How do you mean?" she demanded, climbing up on the couch beside Jean-Claude. She put her hands in her lap. "What's the bad?"

Jean-Claude shrugged. "Anita cannot stop raising the dead. It is not like a gift she can put back on the shelf; it is always with her."

Dawn's eyes widened. "So, like, power will out?" Before Jean-Claude would react, she bit her lip. "That really sucks. Why didn't she tell me?"

"I am certain that she did not wish to burden you."

"Anita's got a misplaced sense of protection," Dawn protested. "Maybe if I knew she had problems too, then I wouldn't go around all day with this crushing emo weight of the world on my shoulders, would I? Huh? Did she ever think of that?"

"She only wishes the best for you," Jean-Claude said soothingly. "You cannot fault her for that."

Dawn sat back against the cushions. "Watch me," she said. "And it's not like I can stop it."

Jean-Claude sensed an opening. "It must be difficult, catching thoughts from those around you," he commiserated. "Anita, Nathaniel..." He watched Dawn nod, then moved in for the kill. "Damian."

"No, not Damian," Dawn said immediately. "He's like a big empty space in my head, which is like so creepy. Kinda like you."

Inside, Jean-Claude was smiling. He had exactly what he wanted -- the answer as to whether Dawn could read his thoughts. On the surface, he continued as if Dawn's words were of little importance. "It must be very disconcerting."

Dawn made a face. "That's one way of putting it." She looked around the room again. "Hey, who's that?" She pointed at the portrait over the fireplace. "Is that you?"

"Oui, it is." Jean-Claude wondered if Dawn was as eager to leave the previous line of questioning as he was. "Would you care to see?"

"Okay." Dawn bounced off the couch and ran across the room, her Mary Janes soft on the carpet. "Hey, it is you! What's with the hat?"

"In those days, every gentleman wore a hat," Jean-Claude told her. He pulled an uncomfortable armchair over and helped Dawn climb onto it, standing on the seat so she could get a closer look at the portrait. "And every young lady such as yourself would wear a dress like that."

"She's pretty," Dawn said wistfully. "Is she a vampire too?"

"Non." Jean-Claude stared hard at Julianna's image, the old familiar ache of loss and failure hard in his head. "Non, Julianna was Asher's human servant, much as Anita is my human servant."

Dawn twisted around in the chair to stare at Jean-Claude with ancient eyes. "Is she dead?" Dawn asked after a moment. 

"Yes."

Dawn turned back to the painting. "Is that Asher?" This time, her voice was softer, edged with something Jean-Claude could not identify. 

"It is." 

After another minute of staring at the portrait, Dawn climbed off the chair and returned to the couch. She sat on the edge, deliberately facing away from the portrait. 

At a loss to know what had just occurred, Jean-Claude returned the chair to its rightful location by the wall. He wondered what he should do, if there was something he could get for the child, some sort of beverage or toy. 

Dawn kicked her heel against the couch, frowning at her hands again. Shouldn't a child be more active, more questioning? Was there something he was supposed to do? Would Anita not have mentioned it if there was a plan to the night?

"Do you like penguins?" Dawn asked suddenly. Jean-Claude raised an eyebrow. "You know, penguins."

"I have no feelings on the matter," Jean-Claude admitted. "However, I do know that Anita likes penguins."

"Uh huh." Dawn tugged on the hem of her sleeve, revealing a thin white scar around her wrist. "We were going to go see the penguin movie tonight. But she got busy."

"I am certain the movie will still be at the theater tomorrow night," Jean-Claude offered. He was at least capable at soothing unhappy females of any age. 

"But she still cancelled on me," Dawn pointed out. "Does she do that to you too?"

Jean-Claude sighed. "She has, when her work takes her to dangerous places," he admitted. 

"I bet it bugs you."

"I understand that ma petite's work is of the utmost importance to the public safety."

"I bet it bugs you," Dawn repeated.

"She does not do so to 'bug' me."

"I bet it bugs you."

"Please stop saying that."

Dawn raised her eyebrows. "It totally bugs you," she said with relish. "At least I'm not the only one."

Jean-Claude was beginning to think this was a bad idea. He toyed with the idea of calling Jason to his side, to distract the child, but Jason was upstairs working. Surely the smooth running of the Circus was more important than his discomfort with a child?

After all, he was the Master. The Sourde de Sang of his bloodline. He could handle one small child's probing question.

"What do you do for fun?"

Make that probing  _questions._  "How do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you do for fun?" Dawn slid forward on the couch. "Do you watch TV?"

"No." Jean-Claude cast around for things he could tell the child, as he knew that if he answered that question honestly, Anita would kill him. "I... I enjoy working."

Dawn was unimpressed. "You can't work all the time."

"Occasionally I will walk the Circus, ensuring that my patrons are content."

"So you lurk."

"I do not lurk," Jean-Claude protested before he could catch himself. "I am the Master of St. Louis. There is no need for me to lurk."

Dawn slumped back against the cushions. "Do you read?" she asked hopefully. "I bet you've read a lot of good books."

"This is true," Jean-Claude said. It seemed a safe enough topic...

"Ever eat an author?"

Apparently not. Jean-Claude tried to look stern without bleeding over into terror, and faced the child. "This is not an appropriate topic," he said. 

Dawn let out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine," she muttered. "I don't suppose you'll let me go see the Circus upstairs?"

"No. Anita would not like that."

"Anita's not here," Dawn pointed out. "And like you said, you're the Master. Who'd be mean to me if you were there?"

"We are not going upstairs," Jean-Claude said. "Anita will be done soon and return to retrieve you."

"Please?" Dawn asked, her eyes big and her lower lip extended in the slightest of pouts. 

Jean-Claude knew how to use physical appearance for emotional manipulation when he saw it, and Dawn was exuding it in spades. He sincerely hoped this was an unconscious action, for if Dawn knew how to use her cuteness, no one was safe.

"Do you play cards?" Jean-Claude asked in desperation. "There are cards... somewhere."

"Do you play chess?" Dawn stuck a strand of hair in her mouth. "Can we play chess?"

Jean-Claude quirked up the side of his mouth with something that felt a little too much like relief. "Chess it is."

It only took him a moment to retrieve the chessboard from the side table, and set the board. Dawn slid off the couch and knelt by the side of the coffee table. "Can I be white?"

"If you so wish." Jean-Claude paused. "That means you go first."

"I know." Dawn stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth. "Are we going to play with wild pieces?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Wild pieces. Like in poker. You let one piece be wild and do whatever. Like the third pawn from the left can only go backwards. Or in an S-shape. Or only move ever three turns."

Jean-Claude resisted the urge to put his head in his hands. "Those are not the rules of the game."

"But they can be," Dawn said. "And if you don't play around with changing the rules, what will happen if someone else changes things up and you have to adapt but you've never tried?"

The line of reasoning was sound and logical, and so unlike anything Jean-Claude expected from a young child, that he wasn't sure what to say. "Perhaps we should still play by the regular rules," he said. 

"Okay." Dawn considered the board. "If you want." She moved a pawn. 

The game began in earnest. For a child, Dawn had a frighteningly strong grasp of the technical aspects of the game, but Jean-Claude supposed that could be part of her intelligence. Indeed, he thought as he moved his knight, Anita had been telling anyone who would listen how smart Dawn was, with her large vocabulary and quick grasp of reality--

His hand froze above his bishop as he realized exactly what Dawn had just done. It was a reckless, brash move, that looked as if she had opened her queen up for the taking, and Jean-Claude almost fell for it. Instead, he looked ahead, played the rest of the game out in his head, and realized in that moment that in twenty moves, Dawn would have him in checkmate.

Looking at the girl, Jean-Claude saw that she knew it too. He forced himself to nod. "Very good, mon petit soleil."

Dawn grinned. "Wanna play as fast as we can to the end?"

In response, Jean-Claude slid his bishop across the board, knocking the white marble queen off the board.

* * *

 

Anita shut the large wooden door behind her, exuding exhaustion. "How can you be awake?" she asked in greeting as she walked across the room to where Dawn and Jean-Claude were still playing chess. "It's past midnight."

Dawn bounced to her feet and ran to Anita. "We missed you!" she exclaimed. Anita swept the child up into a big hug. "And your nose is cold!"

"It's cold outside," Anita said. Sweeping her eyes past the table, she sighed. "I think I know why you're still up."

"Those M&Ms are like health food," Dawn protested. "They've got peanuts in them."

"You are full of sugar," Anita said, poking her finger against Dawn's belly and making the girl giggle. "With any luck, you'll crash on the way home and I can get you to bed without having a whirling dervish spinning around the house all night."

"Nope!" Dawn squirmed out of Anita's grasp and ran back to the table. "We're almost done. Then we can go."

"Chess?" Anita frowned. "It's nice of Jean-Claude to play with you."

"Non, ma petite, it was a pleasure to play with little Dawn," Jean-Claude said, keeping his eyes on the board as Dawn moved her rook in a circle, knocking the black knight to the side. "Her way of manipulating the rules for her own benefit is quite illuminating." 

"He's just never played with wild pieces before," Dawn told Anita. "Oh, it was the best when all the pawns could only move backwards! That was cool."

Anita looked between Jean-Claude and Dawn. "What are you talking about?"

"Little Dawn has pointed out, rightfully so, I may add, that sometimes it is for the best to experiment with the rules, in case the rules are changed on you at a later time." Jean-Claude used his bishop to jump the pawn hiding Dawn's king. "Checkmate."

Dawn consulted scribbles on the paper beside the board. "I forgot that was a rule."

"My apologies," Jean-Claude said, bowing with his hand over his heart. "You are welcome to a rematch, if you so wish."

"Not tonight," Anita interrupted before Dawn could accept. "Someone should have been in bed three hours ago. Come on."

Dawn yawned as Anita helped her to her feet. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Jean-Claude obligingly rose. "Perhaps we can take her to my suite?"

"Come on, kiddo," Anita said. "Let's get moving."

Dawn was visibly slowing down as they walked the stone corridor. Also apparent was the care with which Anita held Dawn's hand, keeping the girl in the middle of the corridor, away from the rough stone walls. Jean-Claude observed the scene, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"Here we are," Anita said, guiding Dawn towards Jean-Claude's door. "Just through here."

Dawn's eyes popped open as she looked around the room. "Did a mime explode in here?" she demanded, twisting around to look at Jean-Claude. 

"No, little one, a mime did not explode in here." The black and white walls directed attention to the brilliant crimson of the bed, but it was not as bad as Dawn was making it out to be. "Anita once suggested that I add some color to my decorating."

"And I haven't made a single suggestion since." Anita pointed at the door in the far wall. "The bathroom's in there."

"Okay." Dawn took two steps across the carpet, then stopped. She turned to Anita, paler than before. "There's no one else in there, right?"

Jean-Claude could feel the waves of worry coming from Anita. "No, Dawn, there's no one in there." 

"I will go ensure that fact," Jean-Claude said smoothly before Anita could say anything else. "Ma petite?"

Anita took Dawn's hand again as Jean-Claude crossed the room, pushed open the bathroom door and flipped on the light in one smooth motion. He knew as well as Anita that there was no one and nothing in that room, but he made the show of checking, knowing Dawn was watching from the doorway. 

"The room is ready for you, Dawn," Jean-Claude said after a cursory check.

Dawn stood uncertain, chewing on her finger. 

"Do you need me to stay?" Anita asked.

That pulled Dawn out of her concentration. "No, I'm fine," she said. "I'll be quick."

"We will be right outside," Jean-Claude said, pulling Anita back through the door with him. "Mademoiselle."

Anita let Jean-Claude close the door, then guide her across the room before she jerked away. "There was no reason for her to think that there was anyone in that room," Anita said, crossing her arms. "Did anything happen tonight?"

"Non." Jean-Claude leaned against the wall. "I sent word to everyone to stay away from the entrance area tonight. The only person we saw was Jason, as he went to fetch something for Dawn to eat."

"What did you do for five hours?" Anita asked. 

"We played chess."

"For five  _hours_?"

"It was Dawn's request. She said it had been a very long time since she had the chance to play the game."

Anita rubbed a hand across her eyes. Sensing that she would be more open to his comfort now, Jean-Claude pushed off the wall and stepped close enough to Anita to put his arms around her waist. She relaxed against him, their bodies fitting together effortlessly. He drew in the scent of her hair, her blood, her power over the dead. "I miss this," Anita murmured. "Just being with you."

Jean-Claude did not point out that it had been her idea to focus the entirety of her free time on Dawn. "As I have missed you, ma petite." 

"Thanks for watching Dawn. It can't have been easy to play chess with a kid for that long."

"On the contrary, ma petite. She plays at a level similar to Asher."

Anita twisted away, as Jean-Claude knew she would. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. "Who plays that well?"

"Dawn."

"How? You're the one who told me Asher's the best chess player you know."

"I believe I said that he was the most challenging," Jean-Claude corrected. "His skill at strategy has grown in bounds, since--"  _Since Julianna's death._  "In recent years. He sees the game miles ahead, and is willing to be reckless to secure victory."

"So, what? Dawn's like some freaky child chess prodigy?"

Jean-Claude considered what he should say. His suspicions on Dawn were only a tiny spark in the darkness. He did not know what they meant, but he knew that the answer to the mysterious child lay within reach. "Dawn is indeed a very bright girl," he said carefully. "Her logic, her reasoning, all of these things are not the actions of a normal child."

"So Dawn's special," Anita snapped. "She's really smart and she's quick on her feet and she's an amazing girl!"

"She is," Jean-Claude agreed, pushing soothing feelings at Anita. "Perhaps you need to consider--"

"Consider what??"

Jean-Claude knew he was on dangerous ground. He had heard from others how desperately Anita had latched onto Dawn, and after that debacle at Christmas with Richard... 

Jean-Claude could tell Anita how the girl reminded him slightly of Valentina. He could talk of how the child spoke of things beyond the reasoning of a child, even of a teenager. He could mention how the girl appeared so old one moment, then a typical child the next. He could recount how Dawn had avoided looking at the picture of Asher all night, how she had averted her eyes whenever she had moved around the room.

He could say all these things, and drive Anita away from him. 

Of his fears and suspicions, he said nothing. 

"Consider that Dawn needs more mental stimulation," he mentioned with casual calm. He noted that Anita visibly relaxed. "Such intelligence should be nurtured, in one so young."

"You're right," Anita said reluctantly. "We were holding off on figuring out what to do about school, but maybe we can look into that."

"I would of course be happy to play chess with her again," Jean-Claude offered, and was rewarded with a beautiful smile.

"Thanks," Anita said. "That means a lot."

Jean-Claude nodded, as an odd sound began to drift out of the bathroom. He turned his head. "Why has Dawn turned on the faucet in the bathtub?"

"Oh, not again," Anita grumbled, stalking across the room. "Dawn?" she said, knocking on the door. "Do we have to have the water talk again?"

The door swung inward. "The water comes out of a swan's mouth!" Dawn exclaimed. She pulled Anita into the room. "See? Like it's puking up water!"

Anita rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the visual, Dawn." She helped Dawn into her jacket, then picked the girl up. "Come on, time for us to vamoose."

"Can we get a swan tap for home?" Dawn asked.

"No." Anita turned off the bathroom tap, and started in the direction of the exit.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I say so."

Dawn looked back at Jean-Claude. "Where did you get the tap? Can you tell Anita so she stops being so dumb about it?"

Jean-Claude spread his hands. "I would never willingly step in the way of Anita's decision-making process."

"You're both ridiculous." Dawn yawned again as she put her head on Anita's shoulder. "Silly ducklings."

"Time to get you home," Anita said, voice soft. "How does that sound?"

"Okay," Dawn said sleepily.

Anita looked at Jean-Claude. "Thank you," she said. "It means a lot to me."

Jean-Claude smiled at her. "Anything you would ask of me, ma petite. Je t'aime."

"I love you too."

"He's not so bad," Dawn muttered, breaking the spell. "Even if he doesn't lurk."

Anita shook her head. "I'll see you later, Jean-Claude."

"Do you need help in carrying Dawn to the car?" he asked. "There are a great many stairs."

"I've got her," Anita said, a wistful smile. "Bye."

Jean-Claude closed the door behind them, letting his fingers linger on the wood. He stared at the wood for a minute, then slowly returned to his seat on the couch. He stared at the remains of the chess board, lost in thought.

That was how Asher found him, much later. "Are we still banished from our home by a child?" the vampire demanded, slouching down onto the couch beside Jean-Claude. 

"You will ruin your shirt if you sit like that," Jean-Claude murmured, stroking a finger over his lip. 

Asher cocked his head, staring at Jean-Claude with narrowed eyes. "What are you thinking?"

Jean-Claude blinked slowly. "I am thinking that I wish to learn more about this child in Anita's life."

"In what way?" Asher didn't voice his constant litany of complaints, but they hung in the air, how Anita was holding everyone in her life, especially Asher, at bay 'for the sake of the child'. 

Jean-Claude sat up. "For starters, I wish to know how a child falls from the air into a deserted cemetery."

"Anita said that she suspected the child had been brought to the area and abandoned."

"Yet the police have found no evidence in that regard. All the evidence seems to support Dawn's version of events, of... falling."

"You believe the fantastical tale of this child?"

Jean-Claude looked at the chess board, at the black queen lying on its side next to the white queen. "It would seem that I do."


	5. Ode To A Pancake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast time in the Blake-Callahan-Graison-Summers household.

* * *

 

Anita stumbled into the kitchen, yawning. "What's for breakfast?"

From the depths of the fridge, Nathaniel said, "We're out of milk, so probably eggs again."

Anita's mumbled comment was interrupted by the sound of marching footsteps. Dawn stormed into the room, planted her feet apart, and lifted up a piece of paper.

"Ode to a pancake," she read loudly. 

"Dawn?" 

"Shh!" Dawn flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Pancakes are breakfast food, no matter what your mood. You can cover them in syrup, and they won't make you bur-up."

Anita snickered, then tried to quiet the noise when Dawn glared at her. 

"They're better than eggs and bacon and cheese, so can we have some pancakes for breakfast  _ **please**_?"

Nathaniel blinked.

Anita rescued him. "We can have pancakes for breakfast this morning, Dawn."

Dawn flashed a wide smile, showing her baby teeth. "Thanks!" she exclaimed. She slapped the paper on the table and ran out of the kitchen.

Shaking her head, Anita picked up the paper. "That kid."

"She couldn't find a rhyme for syrup," Nathaniel noted.

"That's because nothing rhymes with syrup."

"Stirrup does," Nathaniel said. When Anita looked at him, he smiled. "You know, the thing you use to take a ride?"

"On a horse," Anita clarified. "You use them to ride on a horse." Nathaniel didn't say a thing. "I need coffee."

"Coming," Nathaniel said with a sly smile.

From the living room came a loud "Blech!"

Anita sighed. "A big coffee." 


	6. First (And Last) Day of Kindergarten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn goes to kindergarten. As expected, this does not end well.

* * *

"No."

Anita exhaled sharply. "Dawn..."

"This is going to end badly," Dawn said in as threatening a manner as she could with her hair in pigtails and a kitty cat on her sweater. "Me? With a bunch of kids? All  _morning?"_

Anita straightened Dawn's sweater around her waist. "We have to do this."

"No, we don't!" Dawn put her hands on her hips. "We'll tell Miss Wendell I came and it was bad and I can never go back!"

Anita leaned closer to Dawn. "This was part of the deal of you staying with us. You have to go to school."

Dawn stepped forward, her nose an inch from Anita's. She scrunched up her face in annoyance. "So send me to high school! I totally rocked those sample SATs that Jason brought over!"

"Miss Wendell thinks that Micah did that," Anita reminded Dawn. She pulled Dawn's pigtails over her shoulders.

Dawn glared. "And it's really too bad that there's no way to independently verify my intelligence in a controlled setting."

"You need to put that sarcasm away." Anita licked her thumb and wiped a smudge off Dawn's cheek. "You're going to scare the other children."

"If they can't handle sarcasm, they should avoid the institutional setting." Dawn pushed Anita away, making a face. "They won't understand anyway!"

"Dawn, I'm serious." Anita caught Dawn's flailing arms. "You need to behave today."

Dawn's face fell. She let Anita pull her into a hug. "I guess," Dawn mumbled. "It shouldn’t be too bad. They're just little kids."

"That's my girl," Anita said. She wasn't sure she liked Dawn's phrasing, but she let it go. "Now, I'll pick you up at noon on the dot, and we can go get some lunch."

Dawn's eyelashes fluttered, but the girl didn't look up. "And a milkshake."

"Okay," Anita agreed. She glanced up to see a woman, hopefully the teacher, coming over.

"Miss Blake? Hi, I'm Miss Smith." The woman smiled very widely. "And this must be Dawn."

Dawn looked up at Anita. "Chocolate milkshake," Dawn muttered menacingly. She plastered a fake smile on her face and turned around. "Hi!" she said cheerily.

Anita managed to avoid rolling her eyes. "I'm going to go," she said, standing. "You okay, Dawn?"

Dawn squared her shoulders. "Yeah. Say hi to Bert for me."

"Cute." Anita looked at the teacher. "She's cute."

The teacher's smile didn't change. "I'm sure we'll have lots of fun this morning!"

Anita almost felt sorry for the woman. "Yeah, it'll be a blast." She dug into her pocket and pulled out a thin white card. "Call me if there's a problem."

The teacher took the card, looking mildly confused. "Some children do have trouble with separation, but we have lots of activities to keep inquisitive young minds busy for the first morning. I'm sure Dawn will be okay."

Anita shook her head. "Dawn's not what I'm worried about," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

 

Her cell phone didn't ring, the office phone didn't ring. Anita had three client meetings, two fights with Bert and one game of Pin the Tail on the Zombie with Larry before it was time for her to head back to pick up Dawn at the school.

The whole drive back, Anita wondered if Dawn had liked kindergarten, how she had played with the other kids. For all of her comments that morning, Anita wasn't worried about Dawn's behavior around children. Kyle Zerbrowski excepted, Dawn always treated other kids with a certain detached politeness. Which was strange enough, now that Anita thought about it.

Micah had told Anita that taking Dawn to kindergarten was a bad idea, that Dawn would be bored out of her mind, but Miss Wendell had insisted on putting Dawn into the school system. 

Anita pulled her jeep up to the curb, in between two almost-identical SUVs, and got out. The walk into the school was short enough. The classroom was bustling with excited children and their parents. Anita looked around, trying to see Dawn, and finally spotted the girl

Who was sitting beside the teacher's desk with a scowl on her face.

_Great._

Miss Smith was busy with a mother near the chalkboard, so Anita made her way across the room. Dawn fixed Anita with a glare, but didn't open her mouth.

Anita knelt down so she was on eye-level with the seated Dawn. "What happened?"

The glare grew more pointed. "They spent half an hour on  _finger-painting_."

"Dawn..."

"What's next? Basket-weaving? All good things when you're stuck in the psycho ward in the hospital and they don't let you have sharp objects!"

"Dawn, it wasn't that bad."

Dawn sat up and pointed over Anita's shoulder. "Ask her!"

Anita looked around. The teacher was on her way over. Sighing, Anita stood and held her hand out to Dawn. "Miss Smith."

"Miss Blake, hello." The woman smiled hesitantly at Dawn. "Has Dawn been telling you about her morning?"

"A little..." 

"I see." Miss Smith cleared her throat. "Miss Blake, I'm not sure why Dawn was put in this class--"

"My social worker made me," Dawn interrupted. 

"Dawn," Anita chided.

Dawn looked at the teacher, then at her feet. "Sorry I interrupted," she mumbled, not sounding at all repentant.

"As I was saying," Miss Smith went on, "Dawn doesn't seem suited to this sort of setting. I've made an appointment with her tomorrow morning with the school psychologist."

Anita looked down at Dawn. "The school shrink? I left you here for four hours, what did you do?"

" _I_  didn't do a thing!" Dawn exclaimed

"I made the appointment so we can get a better idea of Dawn's knowledge level," the teacher said quickly. "Her social levels are high, and we may want to move her to a different setting for future learning."

Dawn pointedly said nothing.

"That sounds like a good idea," Anita said, giving Dawn a warning look. "Doesn't it?"

Dawn took a deep breath. "Yes, it does. Thank you, Miss Smith."

"Of course, Dawn," Miss Smith said. "Here, Miss Blake. The school psychologist would like you and Dawn to fill out these worksheets before tomorrow."

Anita took the thick folder from the teacher and tucked it under her arm. "We should get going," she said. "Thanks for your help."

Dawn refused to speak while Anita wrestled on the girl's coat. She dragged her feet all the way to the car, and reluctantly  climbed into the backseat.

"Come on, Dawn, it wasn't that bad," Anita said, buckling the girl in. 

Dawn looked out the window at the school. "I felt like a freak," she mumbled. "Everyone was taller than me and they were total  _babies_. Plus I was the new kid and I hate being the new kid." She stuck out her lower lip in a pout. 

"But it wasn't a total loss," Anita pointed out, even though she silently agreed with Dawn. "At least we can get you into a class where you'll be learning stuff."

Dawn snorted. "Yeah, like how to work the system? My teacher put my 'art' sheet in there for the shrink. You know, with that seven hours of  _homework_."

Anita pulled a folded sheet out of the folder. She opened it. "What's this?"

"What I did during the finger-painting and paste-eating session."

Anita squinted at the brightly colored unfamiliar words shining out at her from the page.

"It's 'I told you so' in four different languages," Dawn said.

Folding the paper again, Anita smiled. "See? You did learn something today after all."

Dawn slumped down in the car seat. "Chocolate milkshake. Now."


	7. Snow Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn missed Disaster Days at the Sunnydale Schools.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This missing scene takes place a few months after Dawn dropped into St. Louis.

* * *

"You know what sucks about doing school at home?" Dawn asked, staring morosely out at the snow.

"What?" Nathaniel asked, setting down the laundry basket on the couch. 

"No disaster days."

"What's a disaster day?" Nathaniel left the laundry and crossed the room to where Dawn stood by the window. 

Dawn stuck out her lower lip in an angry pout, causing Nathaniel to hide a smile. She could be so cute when she was thwarted. "When a disaster closes school down. Like an earthquake. We had one of those back home. Well, sort of. Or the hail of frogs." Dawn poked at the window. "Now I don't even get a snow day."

Nathaniel glanced out at the early spring blizzard. When he was a child, a storm like this meant seeking warmth in the shelter, and usually having to turn a few tricks to avoid getting kicked back out. Snow had never been fun for him.

But Dawn... She loved it. Loved making snow men, loved tobogganing, loved bundling up and going for walks. Snow never failed to make her smile. Nathaniel would do anything to keep that smile on Dawn's face.

"You know what?" Nathaniel said. "I think it's snowing too hard for school work."

Dawn frowned at him. "But I do school in the dining room."

"So?"

"So it's ten feet that way." Dawn pointed deeper into the house.

Nathaniel shrugged. "Well, if you  _want_  to do school..." He broke out laughing with Dawn attacked him, pummeling him harmlessly with her tiny fists. He scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder, spinning around the living room until she cried uncle.

When he stopped spinning and let Dawn down, the girl staggered in place dizzily. She couldn't stop giggling. "Let's watch Indian soaps and eat popcorn all day!" Dawn suggested. 

It was an odd thing to ask for, but Nathaniel had learned that asking Dawn for details on her previous life only elicited grumpiness. "Microwave or popper?" he asked, lifting Dawn up.

"Microwave!" Dawn bounced on Nathaniel's arm. "Then can we go wake up Anita?"

Nathaniel gave Dawn a look. "Only if you want today to turn into a real disaster."

Dawn grinned. "She won't kill me, I'm too cute."

Nathaniel shook his head. Dawn had only been their lives for a few months, but he couldn't imagine life without her.


	8. Things We Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baking cookies should have been easy, right? Throw in a hyperactive preschool Dawn, and nothing's easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This missing scene takes place several months after the start of Dawning Light.

* * *

"What the hell happened?"

Dawn looked up guiltily from the kitchen floor. "Um, hi, Anita?"

Anita dropped her gym bag on the chair and skirted the mess on the floor. "What did you do?" she demanded, stepping over the spilled flour. 

"I wanted to make cookies," Dawn protested. 

"What, all over the floor?" Anita made a face at a fragrant puddle by the fridge. "Is that vanilla?"

Dawn kicked the hunk of butter off her foot as Anita lifted her onto the kitchen counter. "The bottle got slippery!"

"Why?"

Dawn huffed out a breath. "Because the chocolate chips were in the top cupboard!"

Anita held up her hands. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. "What do chocolate chips have to do with why the vanilla bottle is covered with butter?"

"Because," Dawn said, trying to sound reasonable. "The chocolate chips were in the top cupboard so I had to climb up to get them, only I couldn't get down the same way so I had open up the drawers as steps and on the way down I kinda knocked the pepper shaker into the drawer where we keep the forks."

Anita glared at Dawn. "And?"

"And then I sneezed a lot while I was trying to get the flour out and the bag was heavy and I dropped it and it went everywhere in the cupboard and I tried to wipe it up but it didn't work. Then you came home."

"What does this have to do with why there's butter on the vanilla bottle?"

"Oh, I dropped the butter plate and then I stepped in it."

Anita closed her eyes. She didn't know why she bothered. "Come on," she said, wrapping Dawn up, clothes and all, in an apron. The girl started sputtering as Anita hefted her over a shoulder. "Let's see if you turn into a pumpkin if we throw you into the bathtub."

"I'm not that dirty!"

"Dawn, you've got enough flour in your hair to feed a family of four for a month."

"Do not." The petulant phrase was barely loud enough to be heard. 

"Do to."

"Not."

"To."

"Do not infinity."

"Brat." Anita nudged open the door to Dawn's bathroom and deposited the girl, clothes and all, in the tub. Fighting free of the apron, Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and scowled up at Anita.

"Why were you making cookies by yourself?" Anita asked, careful to keep a straight face. "I thought Micah was supposed to be watching you."

"He was, but something work related came up and he's on the phone in the den and that's more important than me, apparently." Dawn transferred her glare to the carpet, and her lower lip began to tremble.

Only months of experience with Dawn kept Anita from speaking up. She pulled the girl close and started undoing her braid. 

"And, like, can I be any more selfish?" Dawn sniffled. "Micah's trying to help people and I don't like it 'cause he said we'd make cookies for Nathaniel when Nathaniel gets back."

Anita put her arm around Dawn's shoulders, and suddenly she was wrapped in a bear hug. Dawn practically vibrated as she held onto Anita.

Anita wished that she could figure Dawn out. One day, the girl was a normal five-year-old, giggling and running around and excited about everything. 

But those other times, like now, Dawn seemed like such a... well, for lack of a better phrase, like a teenager, worrying about her place in the world and being clingy, then worrying about clinging. She was so worried about how she acted around Micah, as if--

Anita wanted to kick herself. How could she have missed what this was about?

"It's okay to want to spend time with Micah, even when he's busy," Anita murmured. 

Dawn pressed her cheek against Anita's side. "But..."

"But he's not going to stop spending time with you because of something you do," Anita continued. "He's here for the long haul. He wants to spend time with you." She made Dawn look up at her. "Look, for the longest time, I thought that Micah--"

"You think."

Anita frowned. "What?"

Dawn pulled away. "You didn't stop thinking that Micah will get bored and leave one day. You still do."

"Dawn, no, that's not it!" Anita let her hand fall to her side, fingers numb. She didn't know why she was feeling this panic. "What made you think that?"

"No reason," Dawn muttered. "You can go, I can take a bath on my own."

"Dawn--"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Honey--"

"I don't want to talk about this!" Now Dawn was skirting the edge of panic.

Anita wished she could freak out, but she was supposed to be the adult here. Dawn needed someone to be the adult here. "Okay. Okay, we won't talk about it." Anita picked up the comb. "How about I comb your hair?"

After a hesitation, Dawn gave a miserable nod and edged back over to Anita.

Putting up the tightest mental shields she could, Anita started combing the flour out of Dawn's hair. If Dawn was still able to read her thoughts and emotions like this... Anita didn't know what else she could do. They had tried everything, talking to other psychics, to Jean-Claude, anyone who might have an idea of how to block mind-reading, but so far, nothing had worked with Dawn. 

It had been a week since Dawn had woken up screaming with other people's nightmares. Anita would have given anything to keep it from ever happening again. 

"I'm sorry about the mess I made," Dawn whispered after a minute. 

"It's okay," Anita said. "We'll clean it up." 

"But I wanted to make something nice for Nathaniel when he gets back," Dawn said.

Dawn had no doubts about Nathaniel wanting to be in her life, but she kept expecting Micah to leave. Anita really didn't want to psychoanalyze how much of her own feelings were impacting Dawn's fears of abandonment. "How about we get you cleaned up, then talk to Micah about this?" Anita suggested. "He usually has good ideas."

"Okay," Dawn said. She smiled up at Anita, a hint of the happy girl Anita knew was in there somewhere. 

"Good," Anita said, unsure why there was suddenly a lump in her throat. "So, onto this bath. Bubbles?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "What do you think?"

Anita took a deep breath, and told herself the same thing she'd been repeating to herself since she first saw Dawn huddled up against the snowy tombstone in the graveyard: She could do this. "I think one day you'll use so much bubble bath that we won't be able to find you."

Dawn stuck her tongue out. "Use the strawberry one," she instructed. "The coconut one is only for Thursdays."

Obligingly, Anita reached out for the strawberry bubble bath. "As you wish."


	9. Talks? Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anita wasn't quite sure what to expect when Dawn said she wanted to talk... it certainly wasn't "The Talk".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the end of part one of Dawning Light (Dawn's about 7).

* * *

"Anita?" Dawn called as Anita walked in the front door. "Can we talk?"

"Huh?" Anita wrestled with simultaneously kicking off her shoes, putting down her purse and stumbling towards the living room. "About what?"

"Come in here and I'll tell you."

Giving one shoe a final nudge, Anita tripped over her gym bag and arrived at a headlong rush in the living room. "Hi, Dawn."

"Hi." Dawn set aside her book and folded her hands in her lap. She had a very serious expression her face. The fact that her legs were sticking out straight on the couch only detracted a little from her intensity. "Sit down."

Anita frowned. "Is everything okay?" she asked, sitting next to Dawn on the couch. She dropped a kiss onto Dawn's head. "You're okay?"

"I'm okay." Dawn patted Anita's knee. "But we have to talk."

"Sure thing." Anita sat back. "What do we need to talk about?"

Dawn looked up at Anita, face deceptively innocent. "Sex."

Anita blinked. And blinked again. 

"Now that you and Richard are dating,  _again_ , we need to get some things straight," Dawn continued calmly. "You're having sex, right?"

Anita started to hyperventilate at hearing Dawn say sex. "Dawn, I'm not talking about this with you!"

"Yes, you are." Dawn gave a nod. "Are you on birth control?"

For the first time since learning how to talk, Anita was speechless. 

"Because we don't want any little Richards running around, do we?" Dawn wrinkled her nose. "Little Richards. That's funny."

"Dawn!"

"We don't!"

"Dawn! Oh my God, stop!" Anita shot to her feet. "You need to stop talking! What are you talking about? You're seven! We can't talk about these kinds of things until you're thirty!"

"But you are on the Pill, right?" Dawn pressed. "I'd have gone through the prescriptions but Micah told me I wasn't allowed to play with the bottles after the Tylenol incident."

"Replacing the painkillers with gobstoppers wasn't funny," Anita said automatically, pacing back and forth. "Did Jason put you up to this?"

"No one put me up to this," Dawn said, the beginnings of a scowl on her face. "But you're not going to do anything stupid with Richard, are you?"

Anita came to a halt mid-step. "Dawn--"

"Because we had everything working!" The scowl grew. "You and me and Nathaniel and Micah and Jean-Claude and everyone, we were working fine! But you're going to mess everything up with Richard."

"Dawn, this is none of your business!" Anita exclaimed. "My relationship with Richard is just that,  _my_  relationship! It's not going to impact anyone here, not you, not Micah or Nathaniel!"

"Do you love him?" 

Anita crossed her arms over her chest. "Dawn, I'm only going to say this once. This is none of your business."

"You do love him." Dawn slid off the couch, glaring at Anita. "But you don't really like him, and that's not right. You're supposed to like the people you love."

Suddenly feeling very old, Anita rubbed her hand over her eyes. "Dawn, I can't talk about this right now."

"You like everyone else," Dawn said stubbornly. "You watch TV with Nathaniel and he rubs your feet, and you go to my baseball games with Micah and we all have fun. We even go out with dinner with Jean-Claude and he lets me get ice cream with strawberry and chocolate sauce and you and me share it and Jean-Claude likes it!" Dawn's voice rose with every word. "But there hasn't been a single time in the last two years that I've been around you and Richard when you've been thinking that you like him!"

"Dawn--"

"And that's why you have to be on the Pill!" Dawn shrieked. "Because when you and Richard break up again, which always happens, if you have a baby then everything's going to get messed up and ugly and the kid's going to be batted around like a beach ball that no one wants but that they shove in a corner in the basement and it gets all dusty and loses air and then the next summer someone drags it out and tries to pump it up with air but it pops and then they buy a new beach ball and throw out the old one!"

With that, Dawn tore out of the room and up the stairs.

Anita knew she had to go after Dawn, to figure out what the hell had prompted the outburst, but all she could do was sink onto the couch and bury her head in her hands. 

She had really thought she'd planned for everything with Richard. They'd been getting along well, and had talked about it, and decided to try dating again. It had been a few years since they'd given it a go... 

She loved Richard.

But did she like Richard?

Tears pricked at her eyelids. She wanted to make this work. Her life, with Micah and Nathaniel and Jean-Claude and Asher and Damian... all with Dawn. Dawn loved each and every one of the guys in her own way, even Damian. But Dawn had never gotten along with Richard. Not after that horrible Christmas--

Anita shook her head. She wasn't going to think about that disaster now.

At the back of her mind, she knew what was wrong, but she didn't want to admit it. She'd worked so hard to get back together with Richard, had thought she'd worked everything out. But she hadn't factored Dawn into it.

Soft steps interrupted Anita's tortured thoughts. She glanced up to see Nathaniel standing in the doorway from the kitchen. "Was Dawn shouting?" he asked.

Anita stood up, arms crossed uncertainly across her chest. "She's upset."

"About what? Is everything okay?" Nathaniel asked, eyes wide.

Anita looked up at him, a sharp retort on her lips, but the words died on her lips. She stood up and crossed the room. Putting her arms around Nathaniel, she hugged him tight. "No, it's not," she whispered against his neck. Nathaniel hugged her back, a solid vanilla-scented embrace that Anita wouldn't have given up for anything in the world. "And I don't know if I can make it okay, but I have to try."

* * *

 

Dawn was lying on her bed in her darkened bedroom, back to the open door, when Anita knocked. "Can I come in?" Anita asked.

Dawn didn't move.

"Okay..." Anita slipped into the room. She sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

"No."

Anita sighed as she touched Dawn's shoulder. "Come here."

Reluctantly, Dawn sat up. When Anita saw that Dawn was holding Sigmund the stuffed penguin, she felt even worse. Dawn always kept Sigmund on the bedside table unless she was sick, or feeling very bad. Sigmund had been on the table for five months straight... until today. 

Anita pulled Dawn onto her lap, smoothing the girl's hair off her face. Dawn's cheeks were wet with tears and she was sniffling, holding Sigmund in a death-grip. Anita didn't say anything, just sat there rocking Dawn gently.

Gradually, Dawn stopped crying, but she didn't move away from Anita or loosen her hold on Sigmund. 

"You are not a beach ball," Anita said softly. "How long have you been thinking about this? About what you asked downstairs?"

Dawn wiped her nose on her sleeve. "A couple of weeks," she said, the tremor of tears still in her voice. 

"Why didn't you say anything before now?"

Dawn shrugged. "Thought you'd be mad. Which you were." The faint hint of accusation was clear to Anita's ears. 

"I was surprised, Dawn, not mad. You know I'm never mad at you, even when I sound like I am."

"I know." Dawn sniffled again. "I won't be mad, if you have a baby with Richard."

Not for the first time that day, Anita wished Dawn was a grown-up so they could have this conversation the right way. But she swallowed her defensive annoyance. "I'm not having a baby with Richard, or anyone," she said. "And I'm not leaving you or Micah or Nathaniel. Nothing could take me away from you guys. You're my family and family sticks together."

"But you could," Dawn said. She shifted in Anita's arms to look at up the woman. Her big eyes were so solemn. "Have a baby."

"Dawn..."

"I wouldn't get in the way," Dawn continued quickly. "I could help, and pick up after myself more, and everything."

"Dawn, stop." Anita gently took Sigmund out of Dawn's hands. "I'm not going to be having a baby. Not with anyone."

"Oh." Dawn rested her head on Anita's shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Anita made Sigmund dance on the bedspread, until Dawn smiled faintly. "But even if I had a baby, even if I had ten babies, that wouldn't change that we love you. You're a part of this family forever, you know that."

Dawn reached for Sigmund again. After pulling the toy tight against her stomach, she said, "I know."

"Good."

"But you still don't like Richard."

Anita resisted the urge to sigh. "Let's not talk about Richard, please?"

"Fine." Dawn gave Sigmund a final squeeze, then slipped off Anita's lap to put the toy on the bedside table before giving Anita a big hug. "We'll agree to disagree."

Anita rolled her eyes. "We're talking about it again."

"No, we're talking about us," Dawn argued. "We always disagree on things. Like if I should be able to drink coffee. Or that strawberry ice cream on toast is a proper breakfast."

"Strawberry ice cream on  _anything_  isn't a proper meal of any sort, and you know that." Anita snapped her fingers. "Micah's going to be home in a few hours, how about we go make a big family dinner?"

Dawn ducked her head. "I don't know..."

"It'll be fun," Anita said. "We can make anything you want."

Dawn looked up though her lashes. "Can we make lasagna?" 

"Of course."

Dawn jumped off the bed and held out her hand. "Come on, we gotta go tell Nathaniel," she instructed. "Otherwise he'll start making dinner and there won't be any gooey cheesy goodness."

Anita took Dawn's hand. As they were walking down the stairs, Anita said, "And while we're making dinner you can tell me exactly why you scared the heck out of me by saying we were going to have that talk."

"The sex talk?" Dawn rolled her eyes. "I'm not a little kid, Anita, I know about human reproduction."

"How, exactly?" Anita asked, trying to have this conversation without exhibiting any signs of adult horror.

"Oh, I don't know, like my biology books?" Dawn snorted as they walked into the kitchen. "The last time I was over there, Sarah Zerbrowski was saying that babies get made when the mother eats too many pickles. So I had to correct her."

Anita stopped dead. "You told Zerbrowksi's seven-year-old daughter where babies come from?" she demanded. "He's going to kill me!"

"As if," Dawn scoffed. She let go of Anita's hand and skipped across the kitchen to the pantry. "Just because a woman eats pickles when she's pregnant doesn't mean that eating pickles makes you pregnant. Correlation isn't causation. Help me get the pasta sauce."

While Anita tried to decide if the developing headache was an early indication of a stroke, Nathaniel walked into the kitchen. "Hey," he said, touching Anita's waist on the way past. "Did I miss anything?"

"Nope," Dawn said before Anita could speak. "Help me, we're making lasagna."

Anita shook her head. "I need to lie down."

"Nice try! Dinner was your idea! We need help!"

"That's for sure," Anita muttered. 

"Hey!"


End file.
